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from it its secret, repeating his monotonous “Go on! Keep right ahead!” In the city by the lake William McKinley lay dead. Through the darkness rode the President, clinging obstinately to hope.
So the dawn came. As the first faint tinge of it crept into the night, and trees and rocks whirling past took on dim outlines, the steaming horses drew up at the railroad station at North Creek, where a puffing engine had been in waiting many hours. From the platform Secretary Loeb came down, bareheaded:
“The worst has happened,” he said. President is dead."
So, to this man, who had been tried and found faithful in much, came the call to take his place among the rulers of the earth.
OW that by good luck I have after
all presented in something like orderly
fashion the main facts in Theodore Roosevelt's career, -of which every one knows more or less, and which he regards as more or less significant, according to his attitude toward the old college professor's prediction, many years ago, that his students might rate our people's fitness for self-government by the headway Roosevelt made with his ideals and ambitions—now that we have got so far, I can hear my reader ask: “But about himself; about the man, the friend? You promised to tell us. We want to know.” And so you shall. I am going to tell you now,—at least, I am going to try. Here, a whole week, have I been walking about the garden, upon which winter